


Promises of the Light

by miaxnder



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Canada kinda snaps, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, No happy endings, Promise, Russia's a lonely boi, Sexual Slavery, Spain's a dick, There's so many more, but ya know, cause like there's no detailed banging yet, idek if this is mature or explicit, it's pretty gay tho, not safe sane or consensual
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-03-20 22:14:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13727067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miaxnder/pseuds/miaxnder
Summary: Lovino Vargas has lost everything but his fiery spirit.Antonio Fernandez Carriedo has control of everything but his deadly temper.Having spent most of his life in Italy, moving to America with his younger brother was probably the worst mistake of Lovino's life. In this world, everyone lives in fear, everyone but those select few. The ones with reputation. With money. With cruelty. In Italy, they had been protected. Here, they are alone.With a Russian dominating the slavery business, a revolution sparking in Europe, and the constant reminder of how he couldn't even save his own brother, how can Lovino feel anything but hopeless?





	1. Chapter 1

Staring at the empty bottle in front of him, Gilbert sighed. He watched as colours danced through it, and gazed at the pale spot of light reflected on the wall in front of him. He reached out and let his fingers curl around the neck of the bottle and slowly began to tilt it, his eyes still fixed on that one patch of light, and his thoughts swimming.

He had tried to refrain from drinking in the years he had spent building up to this position, the habit clearly clouded his judgement, like the murky liquid itself. But sometimes, he often felt the need to retreat, grab a hidden bottle of some kind of German beer and let the warmth light a fire in his stomach. It hid the undesirable thoughts from the forefront of his mind for a short while, before they soon broke through the barrier and reached him. It always reminded him of home, of days spent running through streets, of his childhood self-confidence, which was now only an echo of what it used to be, of his best friends that meant so much to him despite everything they had inflicted upon him. Then he thought of their success. Of how they had advanced to the highest social standings, how they left him. How he still loved them despite all the jealousy and bitterness. And those thoughts would always let his mind wonder to the deepest regrets of his memory.

To his brother.

He thought of Ludwig. Of awkward, quiet Ludwig. Of his younger brother. The shy boy who grew into a man that did nothing but leave Gilbert too, and betray him unknowingly. Ludwig who joined Gilbert’s friends in the Top Tier, who left his own older brother to work in a profession he looked down upon. _How long has it been since I last saw him?_ Gilbert thought to himself. _Is there anything I could do to bring him back, just for a short while?_

Though Gilbert held a unique jealousy towards his not-so-little brother, he loved him. More than anything or anyone. He _needed_ to see him again. But Gilbert was not a man to admit such weakness. Instead he decided that in order to see Ludwig again, he needed to find a less obvious way to get through to him. Something… _Gilbert._

He grabbed his laptop and opened his emails, now seemingly the only way to get through to his brother, who refused to answer Gilbert’s calls or texts. Composing a new email to Ludwig as a plan was already forming in his head.

It always struck Gilbert as kind of strange how Ludwig had managed to advance to the Top Tier. He was a somewhat innocent boy at face value, and it took a lot of pushing for anyone to catch a glimpse of his brother’s true dark side. Gilbert had always assumed that his brother’s skill in business had landed him a spot amongst the best, but thinking about it, that had to be impossible. It was not so easy to rise through ranks. Both of Gilbert’s best friends had admitted to using corrupt methods to get themselves to the top. Sex, bribes, murder. Anything and everything. And they were only rising from Second to First tier. How the fuck did Ludwig Beilschmidt manage to advance two tiers without such methods? Yet he refused to own slaves.

It was common knowledge that those in the Top Tier used their position to their advantage. That was Gilbert’s job. The majority of the second tier’s job. Break in the fourth tier. Make them perfect for those above him. It didn’t matter where they come from. It wasn’t Gilbert’s job to care. It was his job to be cruel. And yet Gilbert’s brother, who had climbed his way to the top, refused to have anything to do with Gilbert’s business. He claimed it was wrong. _Of course he decides to take the fucking moral high ground. Wake up, Lud. We all know you want to. You have the right by virtue of position._ Gilbert often thought to himself. And so that was his plan. Make Ludwig go against everything he had told Gilbert. Make him regret not taking the opportunity sooner.

He began writing the email. A bet, he proposed. Gilbert would find his brother someone he couldn’t resist. Someone he would _have_ to own. Someone that brightened the dark fire he concealed in his eyes. If Gilbert found Ludwig the perfect slave, then Ludwig would have to buy them. Ludwig would finally get to test the true pleasures of being in the Top Tier, something Gilbert had longed to have for so long, and Gilbert would get to see his brother again.

Whilst he waited for his brother’s reply, Gilbert thought about which of his current charges would be the right one. _Innocent._ He thought. _Even more innocent that Ludwig. Let him be the one to corrupt_. He thought back to days spent in Germany, what kind of people would make Ludwig’s eyes brighten, and what actions would make his cheeks flush red. _Dancers._ Gilbert thought back to the ballet classes they used to peek at. _And painting._ He remembered a blonde seven year old confiding in him his love of art, how he wished he could draw, not to tell _Vater_ (who Gilbert was sure wouldn’t have minded…). He would have to guess on appearance. But it was okay. He thought back to the active sessions that helped his charges stay in shape, the most agile, graceful dancer. He thought back to the stolen sketchbook Eliza kept locked in the top draw of her desk, the name she whispered to him in a crowded hall. He thought of the tear-filled eyes he always saw when an auction was announced, the purity told of in stories from handlers.

He had the perfect _someone_ in mind.

\---

"What the hell do you think you're doing with Vargas?"  


Lovino would have rolled his eyes if he had the energy, but he was currently struggling just to stay conscious.  


"He was being a brat. I had to teach him a lesson, boss." Lovino could hear the man approaching, and flinched when he heard the too familiar sound of skin on skin. Lovino's handler whimpered slightly as he held his reddening cheek.  


"Teach him a lesson, fine, but breaking skin is a no go unless I give the green light. You already fucked him senseless...be more creative."  


"But, sir-"  


"No buts. Draw blood again and you're out." Lovino could practically see the boy shaking from behind his closed eyes. "Look kid," the volume of his voice had dropped slightly, "I know you're new to this, so I'll go easy on you. Talk to your brother, Maes, and hope he won't beat the shit out of you. He'll tell you how things roll out here, and this shouldn't happen again."  


"Yes, Mr Beilschmidt."  


"Good boy." There was a second of silence. "Off you go, now; your sister will be waiting. It's getting late." Lovino listened to the boy’s footsteps receding. Beilschmidt didn't even wait for Maes to completely leave.  
  
Lovino felt as if his hair would part from his skull from the sheer force the man pulled him up with. His eyes were covered with Beilschmidt's hand and his sight was taken from him, an experience he's grown used to after the last few weeks. When he felt the older man's warm breath tickling his neck, he tensed.  


"Alphonse is a real idiot, don't you think? I just hope Lars doesn't kill him, poor kid." Beilschmidt yanked on Lovino's hair, and the boy's breath hitched. "He may be an idiot, but at least he does as he's told. You on the other hand..." Lovino cried out when his head smashed against the ground. Beilschmidt had let him go without warning and Lovino could now hear him moving towards the back of the room. He could hear him shuffling around as he continued to speak. “You know, you’ve always been such a pain… I wish I could shift you. Thing is, no one wants a brat like you… I hope someone unbelievably cruel comes along offering a handsome price for your pretty little face.”

“Shut up.” Lovino wheezed through tired lungs. Determined to stay defiant. He needed to be the one everyone payed attention to. He needed to be a problem. He needed to protect his brother.

“My point exactly. Speaking like that to your superior…” Lovino fought against the claws of unconsciousness as Beilschmidt came back towards him. “I am so, so glad I need to get you out of the way for a bit. This may hurt.” He heard the crack before he felt it. The pain that followed burned the bruises and scratches on his skin. He wanted to scream and yell and kick and fight back. He wanted to cry. He hated this. "You know, I like you better like this. Please learn from the experience, _Lovi_." The second strike came and Lovino gritted his teeth. Then another. And another. And another. That was as far as he got before black engulfed him.  


\---

“Feli, stop looking so anxious. I’m sure he’s fine.”

Feli turned to face Roderich, tears threatening to form in his eyes. The older man put a comforting hand on the Italian's shoulder.

“I’m not.”

At that Feli let out a sound similar to a wail.

“Jesus, Matthew.”

“What?!”

“Have some tact, would you?”

Feli turned away again as he whispered to himself. Lovi was in trouble. He _had_ to be...

“What did you say, Feli?”

“He’s never late. _Never._ The fact he is scares me... He has to be in trouble. He wouldn’t just leave me alone.”

Feli flinched when Matthew snorted. Roderich turned to him, and even without seeing, Feli could feel the anger in his usually calm eyes.

“Matthew, please. You're scaring the boy.”

“With the truth? Come on, Roderich. You know exactly what it’s like to trust someone and have them abandon you.” Feli could feel Roderich tense. His next words seemed to be laced with poison.

“Matthew, I’m warning you.”

“You’re pathetic. No wonder that wife of yours sold you off here. And it’s even worse for you, isn't it? You see her every day. Gloating at you, beating your pals into submission, making out with that German.”

“ _Matthew!”_ Both Roderich’s voice and body had raised by now.

“You both need to come to grips with your reality, like I have. She’s never coming back, Roderich. And I doubt Lovino is too. I mean, he missed the stupid tomato pasta bake. He wouldn't miss that for the world.”

Silence fell on them for a minute, a silence filled with anger and fear, until Roderich spoke again.

“You’ve never felt that betrayal. Your brother's still here, and he shares everything with you.” Matthew’s jaw set. Feliciano turned around. Did Roderich really not see the hatred between the brothers? The rift this place had caused between them? The laugh that escaped Matthew's lips was cold and humourless.

“If by everything you mean “Yeah Mattie, imma get outta here one day, got plans to make it big out there, and then I'll be the one owning people like you”.” He paused for a second before continuing. “I hate him. For all I care, his handler can fuck up his enema, cause him some internal damage. Actually, thinking about it, I’d thank them.”

Roderich looked like he was about to protest before he looked properly at Matthew's face. Seeing how dead serious he was caused Roderich to shut his trap. It was strange seeing Matthew so vocal, and full of anger. In his first weeks here, which were the same as the Vargas’, he was quiet, calm and unnoticed. _Invisible_. Whatever they were doing to him, it was turning him into this. And he didn’t think _anyone_ liked it.

\---

"No way. No fucking way."

"What is it, Feliks?" Toris stood up and went to rest his hand on the shorter man's back.

"Did you know about this?"

"About what?" Feliks grabbed his handler by the wrist and bolted around the corner, heading for the central noticeboard.

"About this." Toris stopped dead. Walking forwards as if in a trance, he let his fingers slide down the sheet of paper.

"Isn't it funny?"

"No! It's not fucking funny, Toris!"

"Not that it's happening!" He turned back around to face Feliks. "It's funny...How something so basic, a sheet of plain white paper with less than fifty words on it, can shatter people? Can destroy their lives?"

Feliks stared at him for a bit, before replying with a quick "Yeah, I guess." Toris walked towards him.

“Don’t worry about this.”

"Don't worry? _Don't fucking worry_?! Are you insane, Toris?" The man grabbed Feliks' upper arm in an attempt to stop his panic.

"Feliks, breathe. Look me in the eye." The younger man silently refused. "Feliks, listen to me, please!” Still no response. “Feliks, you have to fucking listen to me ok?” Toris flinched when the other let out a sharp gasp, the Lithuanian was not one to swear often, it meant he was serious. Feliks finally looked up. "I won't let them take you."

"But how-"

"I have my ways." Feliks looked at him in doubt. "I worked for Braginski, remember? I protected people from getting taken there. Beilschmidt is nothing, he’s less thorough."

"But if you get caught..."

"I won't. Trust me. Please." Silence. "Please, Feliks!"

"Okay, okay fine." He swiftly returned his façade, plastering a smile to his face. "But I, like, totally have to tell Roddy about this. Don't want it to be a total shocker to everyone tonight." Toris sighed.

"Okay, you do that." He leaned forwards and kissed the blonde on the head, aware that there was no true warning him against it. "But be careful."

\---

Lilli Zwingli was an angel. That's what they said. That's what they called her. They never said her real name, Lilli didn't understand why. Nor did she understand the reason they chose 'Angel'. The one time she had worked up the courage to ask, she had simply been told:

"Because you are in many ways, to many people." She didn't understand that either.

But what she did understand were the tears she cried, the bruises on her skin, the scarring tissue of the deep lacerations on her back. Which only lead to another thing she didn't properly understand. Why she only had two deep gashes along her shoulder blades, when others have been treated much more cruelly. When others still are. She remembers, as clear as crystal, the day she got those scars. The pain she had felt, the tears she had cried, the screams she had let slip from her lips. The pure agony. It was almost a year ago now. It was exactly a month after she lost the name Lilli Zwingli. A month after she became Angel.

Thinking about it, that was the only event she could remember from before she was passed on to her most recent handler, excluding her name.

She had always been grateful though, as people here tend to disappear. The day a notice is posted. Feliks says that's when they go. She'd been here for such a long time, yet she had never gone anywhere. She was still stuck in the same hell. Which she was grateful for, because even though she suffered, she was somewhere she knows. She had always hated getting lost.

Turning a corner, she quickly regretted her decision and darted back behind it. If they knew her handler let her take walks, she would be handed off to someone else, presumably someone even crueller. She decided instead to concentrate on what Beilschmidt and Hedeveray were discussing.

"It's too early."

"Trust me, Liz."

"No way. He'll find us, Gilbert. And if he finds out where she is, the resistance will be on us. I'm not up for dealing with a load of rogue scum."

"Elizaveta, please. I'm doing this whole so we can finally shift this girl. It would normally be too soon for another one, but we have a chance to get rid of some dead weight here! Come on, we can dump her on the Asians or something. Besides, the resistance will have nothing to do with us. He wouldn't think of crashing the auction, and since we have no buyers there, by the time word gets to Switzerland she'll be gone. The rebels will never know."

"And all the effort I put in to make her forget her goddamn brother? He started a resistance over this bitch. She's worth something. No way am I letting Yang get his hands on her. And if you even mention the B word I'll fucking kill you. No Russian is getting something I worked so hard on. Forget it, Gilbert."

"Fine. You have two months to find a good buyer for her, that _you_ approve of. Otherwise, I can sell her to whoever the fuck I want. Whoever pays the most. If that's Braginski, then so be it." Elizaveta went quiet, presumably considering the offer, when she nodded, Gilbert let out a sigh of relief. There was a moment more of silence between the two before Elizaveta's head snapped up.

"I warned you, Beilschmidt."

"See you later!"

"Get back here!"

Yet another thing to add to her list. Lilli didn’t understand what she had just heard.

\---

“Roderich, you need to hear this!”

“Not now, Feliks.” Roderich kept his hand on Feliciano’s back as he raised his head slightly to address the blonde. His eyes were tired and his hair was no longer close to anything considered presentable.

“But it’s impor--“ Noting the young boy hunched over and sobbing by Roderich’s side, the Pole turned to him and mouthed a quite obvious _‘What happened?’_

Roderich simply shook his head, and turned back to Feliciano. After whispering something to the boy and receiving a small nod, he stood up and lead Feliks to the corner of the room, skilfully dodging tables until he was out of the Italian’s earshot.

“Lovino’s missing.”

“No way!” Feliks exclaimed, his voice raised considerably. Roderich glared at him, with his slim index finger resting on his lips. Feliks’ gaze dropped and he lost his usual cheerful mask. “Sorry. Maybe it has something to do what I came here to tell you…” Roderich had been watching Feliks’ hands, which were fiddling with the edge of his shirt, when he heard the blonde’s words. Looking straight into green eyes, Roderich allowed his own to narrow slightly.

“Which is?” Feliks’ eyes noticeably widened.

“Remember, you can’t tell anyone—“ Roderich rolled his eyes.

“Speak.” Just as Feliks opened his mouth to start, Roderich put a firm hand on his forearm. “But keep your voice down.” Feliks nodded in understanding. He took a deep breath then delivered the earth-shattering news.

“There’s another auction.” A number of indescribable emotions flashed through Roderich’s violet eyes. His mouth opened and closed, almost comically, as he stood unsure of what to do. He settled on gripping Feliks even tighter for support.

“When?”

“Two days.”

“Mein Gott, so soon? How did you find out?!” Feliks looked down, and didn’t reply. Roderich had always had his suspicions about the blonde Pole, but knew better than to pry right now. He needed more information, and if Feliks was their only source, he couldn’t compromise that. “Who?” Feliks just looked up at him in confusion. “Who’s going to—You know?”

“Be sold?” Roderich’s face moulded into disgust, but nodded. “No idea.”

“Can you find out?”

“I don’t know, Roddy. It could be dangero—“

“Can you do it or not?!” He quickly glanced at Feliciano, though when the boy showed no sign of having acknowledged his outburst, he turned back to Feliks.

There was a moment of silence before then Pole nodded.

“Yes. Yes, I can.”

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t worry.” Feliks gently squeezed Roderich’s shoulder. “I’ll get you that list.”


	2. Chapter 2

Gilbert’s eyes skimmed the screen once again, looking for any sign that what he had just read was all a joke, or Ludwig’s attempt at sarcasm. When his gaze reached those words again, however, he could only lean back in his chair, making no attempt to brush away the white obscuring his vision, and laugh. He muttered his brother’s words under his breath yet again.

“I will arrive on Saturday. Impress me.”

_Don’t worry, Luddy. I will._

_\---_

Lovino woke to a stinging back, ice cold sheets and soft green eyes. After taking a moment to realise: first, that he wasn’t in his usual bed, and second, that he wasn’t restrained, he let himself breathe out. He continued staring into the face above his for a minute or so before he was unable to take the silence anymore.

“You really are hopeless. You don’t have to do this, you know?” He croaked out, causing the girl to giggle and return to the chair next to the bed, her blonde hair brushing his cheek as she went.

“Actually, this time I do, Lovi. Beilschmidt’s orders. You’re not allowed to leave my sight.” At this, Lovino attempted to bolt upright, stopped only by a gentle hand on his chest. “Woah there tiger, you need to rest a little longer. You may be strong, but these are deep.” She lowered him down with a light tap to his bare chest and a meaningful look, before placing the back of her hand to his forehead. “Your fever’s calmed down, but you need to drink plenty. Here.” She reached for the glass of water on the stand beside the bed, lifted Lovino’s head slightly, and let the water soothe his throat, raw from screaming. When his strength began to return to him as the icy relief entered his body, he saw the blonde’s concerned expression clearly. Seeking to reassure her, he decided to speak again.

“I thought I told you not to call me Lovi.” He shot her a weak glare and she quickly masked her concern.

“Sorry, Lovino. I was certain it would slip past you this time, though. Oh well. I think it’s quite a cute nickname!” She beamed at him.

“That’s the point, Em. I’m not _cute_.”

“Of course not, dear.” She tapped his nose lightly. “You’re adorable.”

Lovino sent her another one of his signature looks.

Emma Maes was one of the few kind faces in this madhouse. Her brothers, Lars and Alphonse, were taken on by Beilschmidt a couple of years back as tamers, and when Emma decided she should do her bit with helping the family’s income, he simply nodded and signed her on. After a few weeks of being a general helper around the institute, she eventually found a solid place amongst the nursing staff, a job the majority of her colleagues found unpleasant. Being the kind soul she was, she became infamous as the person you wanted to end up with after a particularly bad episode, and was often seen risking her job by helping even those who were prohibited from medical attention. Which is why everyone was baffled when she and Lovino became good friends. Lovino was renowned for his sharp glares and risky attitude, and had a talent for pissing people off. Not to mention that Emma’s younger brother was his tamer, causing everyone to assume Lovino would hate her simply due to association. Truth is, they mainly bonded over their mutual respect for each other, and their desire to protect their family.

Lovino was thankful that she was the one caring for him, but he couldn’t shake the ice from his veins. If Beilschmidt was ordering his care to be under surveillance, he knew Emma would keep him here at all costs. Knowing that set his nerves on edge.

“He say anything to you?”

Lovino could see Emma’s shoulders tense from where she was now folding clothes. She quickly relaxed and resorted to feigning innocence.

“Who? About what?” She turned around and shot him a smile.

“Drop it. Beilschmidt.” She let her smile fall quickly.

“Not much. Just that if he caught you roaming around my brother would get more than just a slap to the face. Sorry about what he did to you Lovi…”

“It’s fine. He barely didn’t anything—” Emma’s eyes widened before she sent him a light glare.

“That’s not what Gilbert said. What have I told you about pretending everything’s fine when you clearly need medical atten—” It was Lovino’s turn to interrupt.

“He was pissed because your little bro didn’t ask for permission first. If he had, a lot worse would have happened. I was fine.” Lovino watched Emma’s mouth open and close almost comically as she thought of something to say. Realising deep down she’d already known all this, she resorted to looking down in guilt.

“I’m sorry Lovi, he didn’t say anything else.” He sent her a glare at the nickname before turning his back to her, not caring about exposing his lashes.

“I’m going back to sleep.”

\---

Ivan Braginski was bored. The thing about being the big boss is that no one lets you get involved in the nitty gritty of things. No one lets you get your hands dirty. A lot of people liked that. Ivan did not. Everything is so much simpler when you’re there yourself, it’s so much easier to solve things when you have the problem right in front of you.

That’s why he started the list. A list full of the ‘dangers’ within the institute. The livestock that couldn’t behave without the big boss putting the foot down himself.

But he was still so _bored_. Nothing ever happened, everyone was too good at their job. Everyone was out there getting their hands dirty in ‘Ivan’s’ business, when Ivan himself was stuck in an office drowning in paperwork.

He said nothing when his secretary Raivis knocked, entered and dumped a new pile of papers on his desk. The boy nodded to Ivan and sent him an awkward smile before the Russian waved him out.

Being bored meant Ivan was easily distracted, and so his mind quickly drifted to the first months he knew Raivis. The boy had been one of his first charges, and Ivan had been less than kind to him, mostly in an attempt to get him sold. But no one wanted someone who cried as much as Raivis did at the little things. No one could do anything without tears threatening to spill from the Latvian’s eyes (and very often, they did), so he never shifted, and that meant that Ivan really got to know him, in a sick and twisted way. As his trade began to grow, most of the people he had gotten used to left, charges and employees alike. Raivis was the only one left besides his family, and frankly when his larger trade attracted a larger costumer base, and people _did_ start showing an interest in him, Ivan didn’t like it.

He liked to think of it as some kind of paternal instinct. As he was without a doubt certain it had nothing to do with physical or romantic attraction. So he thought it was most likely that. Paternal instinct. Or maybe he had made some kind of ‘friend’. All he had known was that he didn’t want Raivis to go as well, and leave him with his fucked up family, so he made him his secretary. He meant something to Ivan, and he didn’t want anything about that to change.

Maybe that’s why he was so opposed to the boy growing.

After contemplating whether he had been too cold towards him before (to which he concluded that Raivis probably understood), he decided to throw aside the pile of transcripts from employee candidates’ interviews and pick up the new paperwork.

He sighed slightly when he saw the tear stains littering his older sister’s medical reports. He knew deep down that he shouldn’t let her anywhere near his business, but she had insisted. And the result was many of her nights being sleepless, and Ivan’s deep internal fear that she hated him. Though she denied such a thing, it was clear she resented the cruelty of his work. Throwing Katyusha’s reports aside for later, he looked to the second half of the pile.

He visibly cringed at the very clear lipstick stain on his younger sister’s paperwork. Granted, Natalya was very, _very_ good at her job, but as a result Ivan had to put up with this constant behaviour. You know you’re in quite the situation when you have to explain to your little sister why you are not willing to jump into bed with her.

Natalya’s reports were a little more interesting than his other paperwork though, so he decided to give them a quick look through. He was still bored out of his wits, but he hoped some of that might be dispelled by news of his sister’s work.

16 new charges. Not the highest numbers have been, but a good haul. Flicking through the head-shots and giving the profiles a quick scan, he concluded that Natalya had done well with selecting her targets effectively and playing to everyone’s strengths.

But it didn’t help his boredom at all. Nobody had struggled too much, and there was nothing he needed to oversee or rectify himself. So he once again found himself cursing someone for being too good at their job.

Pouring himself a vodka, Ivan sat and waited as the clock ticked by. He watched as minutes turned into hours, and how the bottle next to him grew emptier and emptier. He knew he should carry on doing his work, but all he could do was sit and stare at that clock and hope someone on the list would fuck up.

And just as Ivan was going out of his mind, they did.

\---

The room fell silent save for the sound of heavy breathing. Toris looked over and smiled gently at the sight of Feliks’ yawning. He shuffled closer and wrapped his arm around the blonde, adjusting their position until they were spooning. He let his fingers rhythmically brush again Feliks’ flesh, and his smile widened when he heard a little hum of content.

“You always get tired after.”

“Oh, and who’s fault is that?” Toris let out a little chuckle and rested his head on the Pole’s shoulder. Feliks could feel his tamer’s warm breath on his neck as the brunette turned his head, and let out a light chuckle when he kissed one of the hickeys there.

“Sorry, I might have been a little rough with you tonight.”

“It’s fine.” Feliks twisted his head round so that Toris was forced off his shoulder and they could look each other in the eye. “Something, like, on your mind?”

Toris’ face twisted into an expression of shock for the briefest moment, before he quickly recovered. Feliks’ saw. He didn’t know what it meant.

“No.” Toris let his head return to his lover’s shoulder. “Besides, you’re tired. Don’t keep yourself awake for me.”

“I was waiting to see how long it would take for you to be pull one of your considerate moves. Right bitch, lights out for me!” Toris chuckled yet again, and silently questioned how this man could bring out such a sound from him, how he could serve as the only light Toris needed in this dark world.

“Sleep tight, sweetheart.” He whispered into Feliks’ ear, before kissing his cheek. He let himself bask in the blonde’s warmth, Feliks’ familiar presence soothing his mind for a moment.

Feliks’ always fell asleep fast after sex, and tonight was no exception. When he heard the man’s breathing even out, he let out a sigh. Picking up the envelope given to him by Elizaveta earlier, he let his fingers trace the brown paper and red lettering.

Sighing again, he opened it and let his eyes look over the list yet another time. He again let his fingers follow every line and curve of those two words.

The only light Toris needed in this dark world was Feliks. And the world wanted to put that light out.

\---

“Miss Hedeveray!” Elizaveta rolled her eyes and carried on walking. “Miss Hedeveray!”

Concluding that she wasn’t getting out of this, she stopped and waited for the girl to catch up.

“What is it Maja?” She made certain to switch to Hungarian.

“There’s someone here to see you, miss.” Elizaveta simply raised her eyebrows. Maja’s eyes danced around nervously. The older woman sighed.

“Who is it, Maja?” She let her annoyance creep into her tone, causing the girl to start and bow her head slightly.

“It’s _him._ ” Elizaveta started tapping her foot in annoyance.

“And which _him_ , pray tell, is it?” Glaring at the girl she towered over, she began to pray in the back of her mind it wasn’t the _him_ she thought it was.

Her doubts were confirmed, though, when Maja leant forward and whispered; “ _Vlad._ ”

**_SHIT._ **

\---

Roderich looked up when the envelope slammed down in front of him. The sight he was met with was an unfamiliar one. A very pissed off Pole.

“I copied the list and put it in an envelope resembling a summons. Keep it like that when enforcers are around and you’ll be fine.”

“Feliks?”

“Brace yourself.” And he was gone.

“What the hell was all that about?” Roderich glared at Matthew.

“None of your business.”

“Seriously though, like dude, what is his problem?” Roderich internally rolled his eyes. “Whatever, I’m off to get food.” Roderich thought he heard something along the lines of _typical_ coming from Matthew but chose to ignore it, and the departing Alfred, in favour of the envelope in front of him.

He let out deep breath and opened it, his violet eyes scanning the contents for familiar names.

Feliks warned him. He should have listened.

“About fucking time they tried to shift my brother. Little shit’s gonna pay for—” Roderich quickly tried to hide the list but Matthew was faster. “No fucking way. Hey, Feli! You might wanna see this.”

“No. Nononononono—” Matthew simply laughed at the comical reaction and beckoned the Italian over. All the while keeping the list out of Roderich’s reach.

“You wouldn’t dare—”

“Wouldn’t I? What the fuck does it look like I’m doing right now?” Feliciano had started to make his way over.

“You’re twisted.”

“I’m jaded.” Matthew snapped back. “There’s a difference.”

“How can you have changed so much?” Matthew just laughed again.

“How can you have not?”

It took until Feliciano shrieked in horror for Roderich to realise Matthew had already given him the list.

“ ** _Fratello!_** ”

Feli’s hand covered his mouth as he continued to shriek and sob, muttering in Italian and yelling Lovino’s name. He had dropped the list in his agony, and Roderich picked it up, his heart aching in sorrow for the boy.

Roderich watched his teardrop land next to the single word, hand written in red at the bottom of the list.

_Vargas._

\---

“Just get it out of here.” He simply continued staring at the fireplace, bottle in hand.

“It? _Mon ami_ , not again.” He placed the bottle at the foot of his chair at the sound of his old friend. The Frenchman got the message and he could hear his footsteps approaching him by a couple of feet.

“Is it really necessary to kill them? I mean, surely that’s too harsh—”

“It was an accident.” He stood up and turned to face his company.

“Ah, accidents happen, _non_?~ And she looked like such a pretty girl too. What a shame…” The Frenchman looked his childhood companion in the eye, unfazed by the cold stare he sent. When it was clear he would say nothing, the blonde sent blue eyes to the bottle on the floor.

“Drinking again, Antonio? You know your temper is short even when sober…It is practically non-existent when you get your hands on a bottle. Besides, that’s not even good quality…” Antonio raised an eyebrow at his friend. The man sighed.

“Perhaps you are just lonel—”

“Why are you here, Francis?” Antonio met Francis’ gaze once again.

“Straight to the point as always, and to think you used to be so oblivious...” The blonde sighed and sat himself down. Antonio remained standing.

“Gilbert is having another auction.” Antonio let out a sound similar to a snort and threw himself down. “You should come this time. Rumour has it Ludwig’s going to be there.”

“And that’s your marvellous case for convincing me to go?”

“You can be so difficult sometimes, _mon ami_. Give it a shot. God knows you’re running out of slaves fast…” Antonio tore his gaze away from Francis and back to the fire, before picking his bottle up again.

“Maybe next time.”

“You always say that.” He could hear Francis stand up.

“Perhaps this time I mean it.” And he took another deep swig.


	3. Chapter 3

At the time Toris had thought it was a high price to pay. When the text struck his phone with promises of Feliks’ safety, he had thought of nothing but the blonde crying to him the night before, his eyes puffy and red from tears that only served to cause Toris agonising pain. He had thought at the time that those two words were a high price to pay, but worth it.

He had always thought it funny that words can hold such immense power, the ability to decide someone’s fate, to condemn them. A list, an address, a secret. Things that can be so easily betrayed, and Toris found himself betraying a name.

At the time, he had thought it was an easy choice and a necessary price. But it wasn’t until he saw money and goods exchange hands, and found the only words he could utter were _‘It was worth it’,_ that he truly saw he was becoming a monster. When he found himself feeling nothing when adding a new weight, a new title, to his already heavy conscience.

He was now the man who condemned Lilli Zwingli.

\---

“Ivan.”

The russian just continued tapping his feet in time to the song softly playing from his phone.

 _“Ivan._ ”

The music was so familiar. It reminded him of his childhood, so he thought the next logical step was to start humming along to it.

“Brother!”

Ivan just glared at his younger sister before returning his gaze to the screen. He only partially registered Natalya’s sighing before he was startled by her sudden outburst.

“Jesus Christ, Ivan! Can you stop playing goddamn Tetris for one fucking minute and tell me what you want me to do with this guy?”

Ivan made a point of tapping his phone again begrudgingly.

“I was enjoying my game.”

“I know. I don’t care at this particular moment in time.” Ivan glared at his little sister again before he harshly shoved his phone in his pocket. Walking over to the motionless body on the ground, he crouched down.

“Again?” He lifted the body’s chin in one hand, turning it to inspect the damage.

“He got close this time. He’s more trouble than he’s worth.” She sighed. “But of course you’re in charge. And I love you too much to ever go against your wishes.”

Ivan rolled his eyes but said nothing.

“Put him in specials.” He said as he stood up. Internally smiling, he examined Natalya’s expression.

“Ivan. He’s too much trouble for our normal resources to handle. Are you sure you want our best tamers working on trash like this?” She clicked her tongue and turned her head away in protest. “He’s not worth anything anyway.”

“And that sister, is where you are wrong.” She looked back in shock. Ivan mocked her wide eyes as he spoke.

“You don’t believe me?” His sister snapped back to reality, and Ivan’s face returned to normal.

“Of course I do. But what makes you think that?”

“His background report.” Natalya looked at him blankly. “What did it say?”

She scrambled to grab the man’s file.

“Tino Väinämöinen. Male. 27.” She looked up at Ivan and he simply nodded. “Only family was his husband and adoptive kid. Not much else. In other words, he was pretty average.”

“I want you to check up on his husband and extended family on that side. How they reacted, who they are...you get the picture.” Natalya looked a little taken aback, but she wrote it down anyway. “Also, see if any of the children here knew his kid. Find out everything about him you can.”

“Okay…” She finished taking her notes then put her clipboard down. “Why?”

“You have the incident report?” She nodded, unclipping and scanning a single piece of paper.

“Made it within 600 metres of the west gate. Was apprehended by me and my elites....He got close, Ivan.”

“Casualties.”

“Excuse me?”

“Who fucking died, Natalya?” She glared at him slightly. She wasn’t used to her beloved big brother acting coldly towards her.

“23 guards.”

“How?”

“Gunshot. Weapon was taken from his block’s sentry.”

“And what does that tell you?”

“That I have 23 men to fucking replace.”

“God dammit, Natalya. How can I love someone who can’t even see the obvious?” Her eyes widened slightly in mild terror as she skimmed the paper again.

"I’m sorry Ivan, I can’t see it. I’m trying, I promise.” He rolled his eyes again.

“Gunshots.” She looked at him. “How did he know how to fire a gun with enough precision to kill 23 men, when you know full well our guns only hold 26 bullets?”

“Oh my god.”

“Average?”

“You think he was resistance.”

“Put him in specials.”

“I’ll get Jakub on him.”

“Good.” She started to leave, before Ivan called her name again. “Find out who his husband was.”

She looked at him skeptically before nodding. Beckoning two guards to take Tino elsewhere, she left.

\---

“Francis?!”

“ _Bonjour_ , Gilbert! Ah, _mon ami_ , it’s so good to see you again!” The frenchman embraced Gilbert tightly, before letting him go and ruffling his hair.

“No Toni?” Francis’ face fell.

“He said maybe next time.”

“Of course he did. Man, he’s such a downer lately.”

“Hm, perhaps you just need to find the perfect slave for him…” Gilbert smirked.

“Maybe. An awesome businessman like me should extend his skills to provide his closest friends and family with their ideal toys.” Francis smiled as Gilbert talked. His confidence lit a warm glow in his memory, of when the two were small and innocent.

“Ah, ah, ah. Not so fast, _mon ami_. Let’s see how things go with Ludwig before you start playing matchmaker~”

“You make it sound romantic.” Francis laughed that iconic laugh and Gilbert was made suddenly aware of the blonde’s hand on his ass. “Scratch that, you make everything sound romantically pervy.”

Francis laughed again, and removed his hand. He looked around as scantily clad women led potential buyers around, and the numerous displays and services. Francis watched as a man with dark hair talked softly to a boy inside a cage, and a woman harshly addressed a female dancer. Everything here was done by Gilbert. Some part of him didn’t understand Ludwig, Gilbert made his job an art. Of course, he was always advised by-

“Elizaveta. Nice to see you.”

“Lying doesn’t suit you Francis, except when you’re flirting.”

“Hey, hey, hey guys. Don’t fight.” He was shot two identical glares.

“Gilbert.”

“Yes, Liz?”

“Why isn’t Roderich here?”

“Well, uh- I- uh--” The question caught Gilbert off guard, and Francis sent him a questioning look.

“Well?”

“We talked about this. Not yet.”

“Funny. I only remember the conversation ending like that for Lilli. I distinctly recall you agreeing to sell my ex-husband tonight.”

“Yeah, well, I, uh-”

“Lied to me.”

“Yeah. That.” Gilbert could feel sweat starting to drip down his spine. “Oh look, there’s my brother. I’ll see you ‘round, Liz…”

He swiftly left Francis and Elizaveta in an awkward silence.

“Well, I’m gonna, er, look around.”

“Yeah. Same.”

\---

“This better be worth my time, _Bruder_.”

“Trust me Ludwig.” Gilbert stopped and turned to face his brother. “This person could be everything you want if you give them a chance.”

Ludwig looked doubtful.

“He’s perfect for you.” The blonde felt his cheeks burn red with heat. “Here we go.”

Ludwig was still skeptical but he chose to trust his brother this once. He was still unsure what possessed him to drag himself here, at his brother’s sudden request, but he mentally concluded that he should at least give things a shot. Perhaps, for once in his life, his big brother was right.

Gilbert opened the door, and led Ludwig through. He gestured, dismissing the guards, before he turned back to his brother, a smirk wide on his face.

“You okay there, buddy?”

“ _Er ist wunderschön_.”

The boy in front of him made Ludwig feel like he had been living the world in black and white. His eyes shone with emotion, his skin was flawless, his fingers slender and perfect. _He_ was perfect. _He was beautiful_.

“Gilbert, I—“

“Feliciano. This is my little brother, Ludwig.” The boy’s gaze flickered to Gilbert and then back to his brother. “What do you t-“

“Come here.”

Gilbert looked at his brother in shock.

His smirk quickly returned however, as Feliciano whimpered and crawled closer to Ludwig, too scared to stand.

“Feliciano?” Ludwig crouched down. Feliciano nodded, and Gilbert could see the tears escape from his eyes. Ludwig let his right hand drift to Feliciano’s face, using his thumb to gently wipe away the thin stream. “A beautiful name. Italian?”

“S-sí!” Feliciano’s voice sounded like nothing more than a feeble squeak. Ludwig chuckled under his breath as Gilbert watched on in smug pride. The moment was quickly ruined.

“Mr. Beilschmidt, sir?”

“What?!” Gilbert snapped back. He was slightly to surprised to see Ludwig hadn’t moved even an inch, his gaze still fixed on Feliciano.

“Vargas— Um, the older one, he-“

“Stop there.” He gestured at the guard to stop talking, and the man bowed his head and left. Feliciano had turned after hearing his surname, and Ludwig had followed.

“I’ll be ten minutes. Have fun.” Gilbert left, cursing Lovino in German under his breath.

Feliciano whimpered again and Ludwig turned to address him.

“You know him? Vargas?” Feliciano looked at Ludwig in fear. “You don’t have to be scared to answer me.”

“My brother.”

“He’s trouble?” Feliciano nodded.

“Then I hope Gilbert won’t be too harsh on him.” Feliciano just looked confused, and Ludwig couldn’t help but find him cute. “You have hobbies? Anything you like to do?”

“Why are you asking me this stuff?”

“Just answer the questions...Please.” Feliciano looked skeptical but answered anyway.

“I like the dance sessions they put us through here…” Ludwig gestured for him to continue. “But I really love art.”

_Verdammt, Gilbert._

Needing to know something Gilbert had failed to tell him, Ludwig let his hands slide down to Feliciano’s chest. His suspicions were confirmed when the boy continued gazing at him innocently, yet still subconsciously leant into him.

_A pleasure slave? Verdammt alles, Gilbert._

He let his hands drop and stood up. Feliciano was obviously still very confused.

“Mr. Beilschmidt?” Feliciano sounded concerned. Ludwig hummed in response. “Um, is something wrong?”

It was Ludwig’s turn to look confused.

“I mean, normally people are a lot crueller, and um, a lot of people don’t like my crying, or think I talk too much, so, um, why are you, you know—“

“Acting like a decent human being?” Feliciano hesitated, but nodded. “Well, I’ve never owned a slave before.”

Why was he opening up to this boy? Granted, he’d pretty much made his mind up already, but…

“Well I can imagine you being a very good master. You’re considerate and your hands are so big and strong, but also soft and gentle.” Ludwig was shocked, Feliciano was shocked. The brunette began furiously apologising for speaking his thoughts out loud when he knew it was his weak point and that he’d been working on it, he really had, but it was just his personality trait and he couldn’t always stop it. And then Gilbert walked in.

Ludwig looked at Feliciano in shock for a moment longer before Gilbert gestured him over and they began to leave together. Once safely out of the door, Gilbert looked at him expectantly.

“I’ll take him.”

\---

“What?!”

“I’m serious.” Vash slammed his fists onto the table.

“Tonight?”

“Tonight.” Vash looked around, agitated.

“Get all the men together we need. We’re taking a trip to Berlin.”

“But-“

“Did I stutter?!” The man looked taken aback, but nodded and exited. The second he heard the door close, Vash slammed his fists down again.

“Mr. Zwingli?”

“What?!” He turned around quickly to confront the voice. “Oh, Berwald. What is it?”

“Can you keep an eye out for him?”

“Wh--Oh. Of course.” Berwald was forever loyal to his family, perhaps that is why they seemed to get along so well. And the fact that he doesn’t talk too much probably had something to do with it.

“Thank you. I, er, hope you find your sister.” Berwald bowed his head slightly and left.

Vash flipped a chair.

\---

The light was gone.

If what Gilbert had said was true, Lovino had failed the light of his life. Feliciano had never failed to comfort and reassure Lovino, to be there for him, to try and make the best out of the worst situation. In return, Lovino had promised to protect him.

And now look at him.

He was crying in the dark, the collar on his neck digging in harder with each choking sob.

He had tried.

If he was the one they were always bothered about, the troublemaker everyone thought of when they heard Vargas, maybe they would forget about Feli.

But they didn’t. Which left Lovino a hopeless failure of a big brother. He felt himself breaking and he was trying desperately to pull himself together.

He had to fight because all he had left now was that fiery temper.

He had to fight because that’s what Feli would want, what he would need.

But fuck all if it didn’t hurt Lovino like a bitch.

\---

“ _Mon ami_ , where have you been?”

“Dealing with business.” Francis’ eyes dropped down to Gilbert wiping blood off his knuckles, before raising his eyebrows and turning back to the stage.

“You didn’t beat Ludwig until he agreed to the deal did you?”

“What? No! Of course not!” Gilbert looked genuinely confused. Francis sighed and gestured his head to Gilbert’s hands. “Oh. Lovino. That brat’s more trouble than he’s worth.”

“So why do you keep him? Sell him off to Braginski.”

“He’s hot.” Francis tilted his head in mild agreement before leaning closer to the stage, just in time to catch one of the female slaves making an entrance to the auction. “Plus some people like a challenge. Just not one that big.”

“Like I said, Braginski.” Gilbert scoffed. Francis didn’t even tear his eyes away from the girl.

“Liz would kill me. Plus what do you know about my business, Mr. Sparkles and Glitter?” Francis laughed and leant his head closer to Gilbert.

“What _I know,_ is that that boy needs a soul much crueler than yours to get even close to taming him.”

Gilbert managed to look offended for about thirty seconds before he found himself agreeing with his friend.

“Yeah, perhaps you’re right.”

\---

Lilli Zwingli used to be an angel. That’s what she used to be called. But here, they looked at her with blank faces as they cut away her long braids, examined the deep scars along her shoulder blades and gave her a new name. 662. She didn’t understand it. She hated it.

This place was different, she didn’t know it. She was scared, and she was lost. She felt like she had truly lost ‘Angel’, and that she was losing Lilli. The cold walls and the emotionless people were turning her into 662.

She shared a room with a girl who couldn’t be older than 12. A girl who woke every night screaming for a boy named Peter, and cried herself back to sleep with cruel words of his death. She shared a handler with a man whose face both lit up in recognition and fell in disdain within a minute of seeing Lilli. A boy who spoke of resistance and muttered to himself in a language so similar yet so different to the German she spoke long ago. She shared a feeding room with five broken souls, who looked at her either expressionless or with a single emotion. Pity.

She had always felt bad knowing that there were people back where she came from who had been treated worse than she ever had. She had pitied _them_. Yet she now found herself feeling envious of those very people. Gazing at the lifeless faces before her, she felt she was about to find out what ‘worse’ truly meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I use way too much dialogue, forgive me.
> 
> This whole thing is literally just dialogue.
> 
> And this is supposed to be SpaMano, but they haven't even met yet...
> 
> I should be banned from writing. :'(


	4. Chapter 4

“Someone better explain to me what the fuck happened or there is going to be a lot of restaffing going on here.” Gilbert looked around at his nervous employees. “ **_Now_ ** !”

A sturdy woman stepped forwards and passed him a clipboard with a list of names. “The escapees.”

“Not too many losses.” He scanned the paper and lifted an eyebrow. “These are all Kirkland’s lot.”

She nodded and continued. “We believe it to be the Resistance. Someone heard Swiss German.”

Gilbert swore under his breath. “How the hell did they get in?”

“After the initial few got in, there was an extreme amount of damages around the specials wing, so the majority probably entered there. However, we believe they first made it in through a forced weak spot in the canteen door. Presumably an inside job.” Gilbert felt anger boil over inside him.

“A staff member?” He spat through gritted teeth. The woman shook her head and pointed to a name near the middle of the list. A name that was noticeably different. “Jones. He made it out?”

She hesitated, gauging Gilbert’s reaction, before nodding. “His brother did not seem very happy.”

“Matthew?” She looked a little confused. “Williams?”

Her mouth widened in recognition. “Yes. He caused quite a commotion in the C Block. Managed to bring down 4 guards and a cellmate.”

“What the fuck?” Gilbert muttered under his breath. Matthew may have held a lot of hate towards his brother, but no one was expecting him to go full on psycho at the news of his escape. Especially not Gilbert. This time he spoke louder. “Where is he?”

The woman, who Gilbert now recalled was named Monika, looked taken aback. “But sir, what about the breakout?”

“Forget it. All this will mean is Kirkland’s collapse and fall from the first tier. We have enough livestock to survive and recover.” His gaze was hard as he replied to her. “Now where is that fucking Canadian?”

She tilted her head and prompted him to follow.

\---

“May I inquire as to what possessed you to stay here so long when you came for something as simple as that?”

“No you may not, my dear Eliza.” She let out a dry chuckle before her face snapped back to a neutral expression.

“I wasn’t really asking, Vladimir.”

“Oh, if you insist.” The Romanian leant forward so the space between the two closed almost completely, and the air took on a secretive atmosphere. “This is top secret information, Lizbear. You can’t tell anyone~”

Elizaveta simply rolled her eyes at the nickname.

“Go on then. Spit it out.”

The blonde dropped his voice to a whisper.

“I really, really enjoy pissing you off.”

“Vladimir Popescu get off my property.  **_Now._ ** ”

He giggled and started to leave, calling out Dmitri’s name.

“Make sure this wasn’t a waste of my time and money, Liz.”

“Or what, dipshit?” He paused for a second, index finger tapping his chin in contemplation.

“Let’s just say my boys aren’t rough only in bed~” He giggled slightly. “Well then, bye Liz.”

As he was going through the door, he turned back momentarily, all traces of his joking tone lost.

“But I’m very serious. If I lose money, you and Gilbert will lose your heads.”

That Romanian was going to be their downfall one day.

\---

“How did you do it?” Toris pushed all the immediate thoughts from his brain so that he wouldn’t panic.

“Do what?” He turned around and was greeted by Feliks.

Something in his expression was strange. Toris had thought he’d known this man so well but something in that expression was unreadable even to him. His eyes were red, like he’d been crying, but it seemed more like he’d been clawing at them in frustration. He features seemed confused, contorted into different emotions. They projected fear, worry, confusion, shock, grief…

Toris was terrified.

“It was supposed to be me. I was supposed to go.” Toris felt anger flicker within him momentarily. It seemed uncalled for, and he couldn’t place the cause for it. But he felt heat rush into him.

“How did you find out?” Feliks snorted, his arms crossed, his expression mocking, almost cruel. Toris couldn’t bear it. The spark inside him started to grow.

“It’s not that hard to fake sleep. Years of hiding teach you how to control your breathing. And besides…” Feliks let his arms fall to his side. Another twist added to his expression. “You trust me too easily.”

“I-- You-- Oh my god Feliks you didn’t—”

“You didn’t want to tell me because you didn’t want me to worry, right? Being oh-so considerate, as per usual. Didn’t you think for a second that I had a right to know?”

“Feliks you’re wrong—” Toris saw the tears begin to fall from Feliks’ eyes. His beautiful green eyes. The fire grew.

“Am I? Is that all I am to you? Look, I get that we don’t exactly have the most conventional relationship, but I thought we could at least trust each other with shit like this. We’re supposed to be able to talk about things. I trusted that you would help me if I was on that list, but why the fuck couldn’t you tell me? Is it because you don’t care enough to let me help you?!” Feliks had a tendency to over dramatise things but something about this seemed like he had been worrying about it for a long time. The flame burned more brightly, it started to scorch his veins.

“I love you. So much. And I’m, like, so sorry I put you through this.” It set his insides on fire.

“Feliks, I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to face the reality that there was an actual fucking chance I might lose you!” Feliks’ features snapped into a clear expression. Shock. “You think I didn’t want to tell you, that you didn’t matter enough, but you’re wrong. I wanted to have a sure way out, to be able to comfort you, rather than have you comfort me. I wanted to be strong. Telling you would have shown me how weak I am. You act like I’m some fucking hero, Feliks. But I’m not. I’m a shitty person who’s done shitty things, and I lie and cover it all up because I want you to depend on me. But you  _ are _ a hero Feliks. Some part of you makes me think that as long as you love me, I can be saved. You make me strong. If you don’t love me, no one does.”

Feliks looked him in the eye, his tears still leaving streaks and stains.

“I love you, Feliks. More than anything in this world.” Feliks let out a choked sob.

“I know you’re a shitty person, and I know you love me.” His words were littered with hiccups and sobs and tears. “Why do I fucking love someone like you?”

“Feliks…” Toris reached his hand out to the blonde, wanting nothing more than to touch him. To comfort him. But his arm retracted slightly when Feliks flinched. Toris took a step forwards, and Feliks promptly took a step back.

“Feliks?” The man refused to make any more eye contact. His head was turned away. “Feliks!”

“What happened to Lilli?”

And the world came crashing down.

\---

Lovino could hear the commotion outside, but it wasn’t enough to make him lift his head. Nothing could make him acknowledge the outside world - he was happier pretending that his shame was the only thing there. Of course, how happy can you be when you know it’s all your fault that your brother’s gone for good?

It was strange, everything outside sounded so muffled. It could have been the steel door, but he figured it was his brain, especially when the door opened and it still felt as if he was underwater. The crack of light was right in his eyes, but he didn’t dare try and blink.

“Vargas.” He said nothing. “ _ Vargas _ .”

“What?” The figure opened the door a fraction further.

“Are you okay?” Lovino flinched. A question like that could only be a tease for something that would surely make sure he wasn’t.

“Why do you want to know?” He spoke slowly, sceptical.

“Just answer the fucking question. We need to make sure no one got hurt in the breakout.”

“Breakout?” The man clicked his tongue in annoyance, clearly realising he’d said too much - Lovino probably wasn’t supposed to know about this.

“Are you okay?” Lovino let his head fall onto his knees again.

“I’m fine.” Immediately after his reply, the door was shut and he was once again thrust into darkness.

\---

“What are you still doing here?” Gilbert didn’t look at Francis as he spoke, and continued his hurried walk, leaving the Frenchman to pick up speed to follow.

“I wanted to make sure everything was okay with you, I heard about the breakout.” Gilbert let out a humourless snort under his breath. “So is it?”

“Just swell. I’ve lost a load of stock and have an angry bilingual Canadian who’s bordering on madness.”

“Bilingual?”

Gilbert looked at him oddly before sighing. “That’s the part your worried about? English and French.”

“Hmm, très intéressant.”

“Ja.” Gilbert stopped momentarily. “Wait.”

Francis smirked. “You need some help deciphering his crazy talk,  _ mon ami _ ?”

“Yes, actually.” Gilbert said as he pushed open a door. He stepped aside, gesturing for Francis to enter, before following behind. He turned around to lock the door, before slamming his hands against the glass window. “Oi, Matthew! You feeling chatty yet?”

The blonde boy was strapped to a chair, and raised his head slightly at the sound. He was pale, his hair a greasy mess falling awkwardly around his face. Francis stepped forward to see better, and felt his breath catch at the expression on Matthew’s face. His handsome features were contorted into a twisted rage, his eyes burning with pure anger and madness. It was shocking to Francis, and his heart began beating harder when he realised that this emotion seemed foreign to the boy’s face. He looked designed for more gentle expressions.

It was the look behind the boy’s anger, the one that came with recognition, that did it. They stayed locked in silence, staring at each other. Francis heard Gilbert talking, but whatever he said didn’t go in. Matthew broke the silence first, and his tone was unreadable to the Frenchman.

“ _ Papa.”  _ The word broke Francis’ heart, but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything but a single choked word.

“ _ Matthieu.” _ Their eyes remained locked, and Francis could see Matthew fighting between tenderness and anger.

“Well this is an interesting development.” The two both snapped to look at Gilbert. “Papa, eh?”

“Gilbert…”

“Is this some kink thing, or do you actually have a kid?” Francis’ expression was pained as he looked at Gilbert, his voice raw and choked.

“He’s mine.” The German hummed in contemplation.

“And you didn’t tell me this, why?”

“I didn’t know he was here. I honestly thought he was dead.” Matthew snorted at that.

“But you didn’t come looking, did you?” It seemed that Matthew’s anger had won him over. “You never cared, because Mama was just some whore that dumped us on you.”

“Matt-”

“You never wanted kids. Especially not twins.” The corners of his mouth twisted into a sick smiled, completely devoid of humour. “Alfred’s gone, did you hear? He left me here to rot, just like when we were kids. He’s always the favourite,  _ always _ .”

“Matthew, that is not t-”

“You let him go to Kirkland’s academy. You knew for a fact that I had always wanted to go, to study the stars. We used to go together to watch them, and I’d tell you about everything I had read in those books Mama left with me,  _ Papa.”  _ He spat the word with more contempt than Francis had thought possible of the boy. These memories were too much, and something told him Matthew was trying to make him hurt. “But you chose him. You let  _ him  _ go.”   


“Only because I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

“Bullshit.” Francis felt his eyes gloss over. “He was the better twin. I fucking hate both of you.”

“What has happened to you?” Matthew snorted again, but didn’t reply. “What can I do to make you forgive me?”

“Jesus, that was fast. You enjoy fucking with people? ‘Course you do.” He sighed. “But you can get me out of this shithole. At least then maybe I can actually kill Alfie.”

Francis felt his whole body shaking. This was not the boy he had raised in person, and yet it was on paper. He had seen the tenderness inside him before, so what had driven him to such primal madness? He looked to his friend. “Gilbert.”

Gilbert turned and gestured with his head for Francis to follow him out the door. “You’re the father to both of them?”

“ _ Oui.” _

“Biological father?”

Francis hesitated, taking a deep breath. “ _ Oui.” _

“Go figure. I’m guessing you want to get him out of here.” Francis nodded slowly. His actions were deliberate as he lifted his head from where his gaze was fixed to the ground, and he looked at Gilbert with glassy eyes.

“Gil, what have you done to him?” Gilbert’s gaze hardened.

“Do not blame me for this, Francis. The part I played in Matthew’s life is minuscule compared to what you seem to have done to him.” Francis smiled sadly, his eyes pleading.

“Let me take him away, show him how much I  _ do  _ love him.”

Gilbert sighed. These were not the circumstances he had wished to ask this of Francis, but he could see no better bartering chip. “If you do one thing for me…”

\---

“You were right.” Natalya seemed out of breath when she burst into Ivan’s office at two in the morning.

“I usually am, you’ll have to be more specific.” She shook her head, as if willing her panting to stop. When she had calmed down, she continued speaking.

“Tino - we killed his son in a school raid. His best friend is here though, and she’s started opening up to Katyusha.”

“So? What have we got out of her?” Natalya slid onto his lap, and Ivan had to spit several silver strands of hair out of his mouth.

“Not a lot yet, but apparently Tino and his husband Berwald had one room no one was allowed in, and they’d sometimes get sent out of the house when this man came to visit.”

“Any ID on the man?”

“All we’ve got is blonde, Germanic accent.” Ivan nodded slowly.

“Fits Zwingli.” Natalya hummed in contemplation before shuffling a little to face Ivan.

“And their entire family. Turns out most of them are blonde Nordics.”

“So all we’ve got is a visitor which is probably just some crazy Uncle, and a secret room which could just indicate that Tino and his husband were sexual freaks?”

Natalya scowled and stood up. “I’ll keep working on it.”

\---   
  


Antonio’s arrival was elegant and grand and terrifying. Gilbert hadn’t seen him in years, and though time had been kind to him physically, the man himself seemed to have lost all of his own. His gaze was hard and cold and the furthest thing from kind Gilbert could think of.

Francis looked at Gilbert, his brow furrowed in both regret and question - he had fulfilled his end of the bargain and the German turned to a nearby guard, nodding his head in request. The door opened on Matthew, small case in hand. He walked out ahead of Francis, who stayed to thank Gilbert and mutter something to Antonio.

The Spaniard moved forwards with purpose, and Gilbert noted that there was some charm to his intimidation. “Gil.”

“Toni. I’m so glad to see you.” The two embraced, the contact no less warm than it had been many years ago.

“Whatever bargain you have made with Francis has scared him a great deal,  _ amigo.”  _ His English seemed much more heavily accented than before, but Gilbert chose to ignore it.

“He needed to protect someone from themselves.” Antonio raised an eyebrow, and Gilbert simply smiled. “But never mind that. I have a much tougher nut for you to crack, Toni.”

“Make this quick.” He was grinning, but something in his eyes suggested that he was completely serious.

“Of course. Something tells me that this is not the kind of toy you are going to shove under your bed and forget.”

“We’ll see about that.” The two walked in silence for a bit, until Gilbert stopped in front of a door.

“Are you ready? This will change your life Toni.” The man laughed, a warm, lilting sound, and Gilbert found it hard to believe Francis on this one. If he was wrong, Liz would be pissed.

“Just let me open my present, Gilbert.” He turned and unlocked the door, Antonio’s gaze on his back.

“One last thing.” Before he pushed it open, he leant forwards and whispered into his ear. “ _ This _ toy of mine, I don’t mind if you break.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so more dialogue and overdramatic everything. Have fun!
> 
> Also, sorry this took so long to get out. I was procrastinating a lot which is why it's so bad :(


End file.
